Drunk talking and confusions
by MZS6 Animarine
Summary: Hello and welcome to my UsUk fourth fan fiction! Today we are exploring the wicked story created by three fan girls in an over-night fit of shared-writing! Please watch out for crazy plots, extreme changes in writing style, random rape accusations, too many drinks, family issues, and the likes. It involves romance, but it's not the high-light of the story, sorry


So basically this is the end result of myself, Whitecloud Ale, and a friend of ours that might not want to be named, taking turns to write paragraphs/sections of this story. I am aware that there might be mistakes with the grammar and spelling, but I haven't found them after my third sweep (excluding the intentional mistakes) so I won't be bothered with them. I warn you that its full of the UK family.

I dare everyone who reads this to look at the differences in writing styles, and to point out at least 3 paragraphs that were written by the same person. Truth be told, we wrote this a few years ago, and I have forgotten who exactly wrote which part (with quite a few exceptions) And I had to change a lot of grammar, so in some parts it might not be apparent. Still, the dare is ON!

-LINE BREAK-

It was a bright, beautiful day, one of those that naturally lifted the spirit of any sorrowful person, and cheered them up. However, one being was not affected by the bright sun or merry laughter, and that being was a nation called England. For you see, today was a special day: today was anniversary of the day America (his once beloved colony) became independent.

Well, America's independence wasn't one of his most fond memories. In fact, it was something he would rather forget then remember. The day that his beloved little brother stopped being dependent of his care, his love and, well, his existence.

That was why the nothing could help him in this day, no matter how sweet the birds sang or how beautiful the trees were under the shiny sun. He lifted his cup of beer to his lips and drank it hastily, more then willing to get drunk before the afternoon was over. There simply was no way for him to forget how, many years ago, the blue-eyed nation had left him weeping; had turned away from him and all he had done to protect and comfort him when he was little as if it, and as if he, was nothing.

And, to be honest, he felt like crap, like a broken toy scattered all over the floor, to be stepped by a thousand elephants, much like the ones he began seeing thanks to the effects of alcohol in his blood. He sighed, and asked for beer as he swallowed the last drop of the one in his hands, ignoring the sound the elephants made as they talked about some random thing, trying not to wonder how all those elephants had fit through the door.

When he received his beer and paid for it, he threw it down his throat, only to choke on it when he felt a hand on his back. Freezing his action and looking to the direction of the hand, (half expecting France to be there to grope him) he only found his older brother Ireland (who was even more unwelcome then the French frog).

The bartender signed, looking towards the pair, for apparently god decided that it was not enough for him to suffer through one of the four Kirkland brothers –all who were heavy drinkers, and very troublesome when drunk- but with two of them, one who appeared to be the Irish brother-who (as known, and feared, by anybody that ran any type of place that sold drinks around these parts and most of those who didn't) was 10 times worse than his younger British brother. At least the he had the number of someone who would help him if things got ugly-some French lad by the name of Francis. He had copied the number into his cell-phone a very long time ago, just in case the British blond decided to start stripping and to bother other clients again. He knew that would happen eventually, especially in this time of the year; it has become a common occurrence ever since the blond had first walked through these doors many years ago. He watched as the older brother sat beside his miserable sibling, and slowly began to walk towards his cell-phone, intent on making a call the moment things took a turn for the worse.

"How are you holding up?" Said Ireland cheerfully, possibly because his brother was pouting so darkly that he looked like as if he finally had come to terms with the fact that he wasn't as cool as he had believed himself to be. Ireland smirked at that thought, hoping beyond hope that the _Great_ British git had –after way too many centuries- actually come to terms with reality. He then stated mockingly: "Nothing too bad I hope?"

"Go away, you brrody jekk" said England glumly, trying to control his tongue to keep from slurring out the words. He was an ex-pirate; he had no business in acting wasted, specially in front of his brother, who would mock him for being 'lightweight'. At the tone of the younger one's voice, Ireland looked took another look at his brother. At that moment he knew that England wasn't just over-reacting about something stupid, that this time something was bugging him for real.

"You can tell me anything, you know? You are my younger brother, after all" he stated, raising his hand to ask for a whisky.

"If I eber told you anithing you would hold it agains mi. You tree alwais do." England slurred, much to his distain. Ireland frowned, it had been true- he, England, Wales, and Scotland had the habit of doing exactly that to one another, but this time (perhaps for the first time) he didn't want to.

Ireland touched his cheek carefully, and moved the hair that was getting on the way.

"What happened to you?" he asked very, very worried. Still, he knew Iggy wouldn't believe his good intention, and instead of forcing the younger to talk, he decided to do what was better and healthier –for him anyway-; to wait for England to be completely drunk, and then ask him.

So he ordered Iggy a few whiskeys too. The bartender stared for a few minutes, unsure if he should allow the blond to get wasted anywhere near the red-head. He had seen the results of that a few years before when the four brothers had been drinking together. He shuddered, it was not pretty, in fact, and he still had nightmares about it.

Still, he had no other reason to deny the order, and it seemed that the redhead wasn't going to drink himself silly this time. Besides, he could always call that random Frenchman who seemed to know all four of them. So he got them the drinks and watched from afar as the red-head convinced the blond to drink.

"So what happened little Britain? What is making you so sad?" Ireland questioned, staring at his brother, whose face was becoming redder with each drink he took. The other didn't respond but at least he looked at him, which was a major improvement. Nevertheless, his proud and spirited eyes were dull and lost.

While Ireland patiently waited for an answer, he slowly began to become infuriated at what ever caused his brother to be like this. England was proud, powerful, and very strong. A physical blow could never do this to him; Even the three brothers hadn't been able to squash that spirit back when they used to fight, for god's sake!

His anger intensified when England looked away. Never before had he ever done so before, even after losing a war he hadn't! Ireland ordered another drink, this time for himself, then pulled out his cell-phone. In no time he had disked Scotland's number and the phone began to ring.

As his brother picked up all he began to talk. "Scott, I need you to call William and meet me and Arthur at his favorite pub." "Why?" "I can't explain, but you will want to see this." "Well, okay. I'll be there."

England turned to stare at him again, his eyes barely focusing on his brother as tears began to pool. A strangled noise made its way through his mouth, a sound so broken that it broke Ireland's heart with it. He was about to hug his little brother (the only action he thought to take), when he was interrupted by the bartender. "Is he alright?" the man asked.

"I don't know what is happening either" Ireland said before a sob of England caught his attention. "Sorry, I'll carry him home, put everything in my account, I'll pay later" The bartender nodded and took out his phone as the red-head stood and picked his brother from the chair. Artie didn't help much, though, so he had a little trouble.

Half-dragging, and half-holding his younger brother, it took them 15 minutes to make it outside, only to meet face to face with their other brothers Scott and William. It took a while for the two to see them and even when they did they doubted who was in front of them. "Is this England?" Scott asked surprised.

"Yeah." the Ireland said worry coating his voice once more.

"What made him get like this?" the other red-haired country questioned.

"I don't know, he won't tell me squat." Ireland whispered, with a glint of hurt in his green eyes. Scotland picked up on that look, and wondered how bad England really was.

"He isn't possessed, is he?" Asked Wales with caution, poking his weeping brother on the shoulder. "Do you really think that I wouldn't be able to tell if my brother was possessed?" Ireland asked, slightly put out at his brother's comment. "I think that you wouldn't have checked." Wales stated calmly, daring his brother to object.

"He's not," Scotland stated, eyes never leaving the Brit, who had begun to fall asleep. "His aura would be coated with darkness if that was so, and besides, England is one of the strongest wizards alive; only one of us and a few other great wizards will ever be able to possess him and even then he would have struggled against it, but right now his magic is inactive so that's not the case."

"Hey, maybe he was kidnapped and raped or something." said Wales, trying to crack a joke, but the other two countries froze.

"Mm...my little brother.." whispered Ireland "...raped?" finished Scotland. Within seconds they began to shake England , trying to wake him up, but he wouldn't, and it wasn't really all that surprising because he had drunk enough alcohol to kill a human, yet it still meant that they had no way to get a response from him. "Guys, really? Look at the facts. Since it wasn't a wizard, and no muggle would be capable of getting one over him, then it would have to have been a nation. And really, which nation on earth would have been able to rape OUR little brother of all people? It would take a professional to do that, and there is no nation who woul…. No wait, France is a nation!" Wales shouted at his brothers. Ireland immediately picked up his cell phone, and called France. When he heard France's voice, he immediately yelled "ADMIT IT YOU WINO!"

"Excuse moi?" France's voice answered.

"IT WAS YOU! JUST ADMIT IT!" Scotland continued over his brother's shoulder, before Wales took the phone from Ireland.

"WATCH YOUR BACK FRANCE! WE WILL KILL YOU FOR THIS!"

"What did I do?" asked a surprised, and very confused France.

"YOU RAPED ENGLAND!" shouted Ireland and Wales, while Scotland screamed: "DON'T ACT LIKE AS IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU DID YOU!"

"But I didn't! I swear! I even have an alibi! I have been with Spain and Prussia all day long trying to find a last-minute gift for America's birthday! . . . . . . So England was raped? Who managed to do that?"

"No idea, he was too drunk to tell us when he was awake."

"What?! He's drunk already? Its not even 7 o'clock! I know that he isn't happy about America's birthday but this is ridiculous!" France screamed.

Ireland hung up the phone then he turned to his brothers. "So this about that colony's birthday? That _is _ridiculous!" he asked simply and Wales responded. "I have heard that he always acts a little off this time of the year, but I wasn't expecting it to be so intense."

They all stood and stared at each other, and then at England. Barely ever seen the American themselves and even then it was only because they sent their people live in America's lands. They hadn't ever been in best of terms with England, and the latter simply refused to let them close enough to actually talk to him. They knew, from England's over-protective attitude toward the colony, that England had enjoyed visiting the colony, and had missed him when the colony became independent.

"So what do we do then?" Scotland spoke none to gently, his lack of patience making itself known. It was one of his most prominent traits, along with impatience and forcefulness, and the one that England picked up on from when they were little. In fact, England had also picked up on Ireland's pride, and Wales' logical thinking.

"Maybe we should go take him there, a face to face conversation is better then watching him drink himself into oblivion." Said Wales. "NOOO!" a sudden outburst came from the half hanging mass off of Irelands frame. "I dun need that bloody Muppet's sympa-pa-pathy. Ill be some sor-sorta wench on mi own ship before tha-that! So sod off and get me rum!" England proclaimed "Great now all we need is pirate Arthur Kirkland to wreak havoc on the streets" Scotland said. "How about we get him home first before he does something that will scar us again?" The sudden trio shivered at mere thought as to what happened last time."

Ireland began to talk "I can carry him home, tou-" he heard his phone ringing, and picked up, just to hear a unknown voice

"Hey! Is it true!?" "What?" "About England!?"

Ireland looked at their brothers "um... yes, who are you?" "I'M AMERICA, PLEASE, TELL ME WHERE HE IS "

"America! " his brothers smiled in surprise "But its no good if he comes now" said Wales "Not with captain Kirkland"

"Tell him the direction" said Scott.

Ireland did so, and then hung up, before asking why, Scott answered, like reading their minds "He deserves it, he has our little brother like this, captain Kirkland will take revenge. Its only fair"

They sat down in Scott's car, which was the biggest one there, and waited for a while. However, sitting down in an enclosed space was near impossible with a pirate. England kept pushing them and trying to flee, fully convinced that his brothers had kidnapped him from his ship and were trying to keep him prisoner in the car. The trio couldn't have been gladder when the American finally reached the place, and began to look around frantically. With a wicked grin, they made a point of pointing out the American to England, and releasing the man, who wasted no time running to him, anger and hurt in his eyes.

"England!" said America, and his gaze went to the elder siblings. America has anger in his eyes as well.

"Who did it!?" yelled America, and the others were surprised. "If you don't tell me, I'll beat the hell ou-" he didn't finish, when he went to the floor provoqued by one of captain Kirkland' fists

He stared, surprised that his long-term ally would punch him. His surprise didn't have much time to express itself though when a kick forced the air out of his lungs. In a second, his battle instincts activated and he held the leg when it came to hurt him again. he knew though that he didn't want to harm Iggy, and with that in mind he struggled to hold the English man down without using force.

"Iggy, what are you doing. nhh" he struggled. However, Captain Kirkland didn't answer and started struggling for America to let go of his leg.

America's lower lip was bleeding because of the punch that he received earlier.

"PLEASE, IGGY, LISTEN TO ME " the others where just enjoying the show, hidden in the car. "it's me, AMERICA"

"All the moor reson for yu to suufer!" The smaller blond slurred, struggling harder, and tears falling down his face, "Yu deserve it." "England! What's wrong with you? Its me, America, what have I done for this?" America stated as he grabbed the other's left hand and slowly standing up. "If this is about my birthday, then you are overreacting! That was many years ago, and you haven't lost me. I'm still here!"

For whatever reason there might be, England stopped fighting, instead becoming limp and falling on the American like a dead weight. He was sobbing, the American noticed, the warm tears coating his shoulder. The brothers stood up, and ran to the two, ready to defend their brother.

Ireland grabbed his little brother, and carried him like a princess. "That's all for today" said Scott as putt his body between England and America when America tried to reach his former brother.

"Iggy!" he said as he tried to evade Scotland, but it was no use, the other was bigger then him.

"DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO SEPARATE ENGLAND FROM ME " He screamed before Scott received a well-placed punch thanks to him. Then Wales went to defend his brother, holding America down from behind, who proceeded to kick and punch the air, desperate to free himself and reach England. Meanwhile, England, who was hugging his brother as he continued to cry, looked where America was, and saw him as he tried to violently free himself, so England jumped from Ireland's arms, falling to the ground *his equilibrium wasn't so good after so much drinks* but still, he stood and tried to reach America. However, Ireland was faster then his drunk brother and took his hand to stop him.

"Ireland, plese!" He cried, his voice dripping in sorrow, "Let me go!" "England, you can't deal with this now, it's not fair on you." Ireland stated calmly, his soothing voice doing little to help the younger nation. "Ireland! Plese! Plese!" "No England, not now, not when you are like this." He said, pulling his little brother to his car, and quickly screaming at Scotland and Wales that he would rent a room in their favorite hotel, and that they could find the room under the usual name, before locking all the car doors and trapping England in the seat belts (the only way to be sure that he couldn't accidentally fall out of the car when he was drunk.), and driving away.

When America heard "hotel" and "usual room" he freaked. And images of England being tied to a bed and raped again popped out in his mind.

Now he was REALLY pissed off, and a dark aura surrounded him as the two left. The duo knew something wasn't right, but before they could do anything, America was on top of Wales, with his hands wrapped around his neck.

"Now you'll tell me where did that bastard carried my Iggy, or otherwise I'll break your neck" Scott tried to help his brother, but he couldn't help, Alfred wasn't in a good mood.

However, Wales wasn't a wimp, he wouldn't have survived this long if he was. So he spat back at the American "You ain't going to hurt him anymore you git! We won't let you!" America shook, his anger blinding him of the words stated as he would only listen for an address. "I hope you know how close to death you are. It isn't that hard to break a neck, you know."

"I WONT TELL YOU" America started to squeeze the neck of the other nation, and the other could feel how his breath was being obstructed.

"He doesn't deserve...th...you" Scott wrapped his arms around America's body from behind. "LET GO!" he said struggling to free his brother. America squeezed harder, and Wales began to gasp for breath. "I'LL TELL YOU, BUT LET HIM GO!" said Scott, desperately.

America's hold lagged, and he let Wales fall to the ground. He turned to Scotland, his face set in a scowl. "WHERE IS HE?" he screamed at the man before him. "He is with Ireland in the Hilton, but before you go, make sure that you don't hurt him again or I'll kill you." Scotland stated as he sat on the floor next to his second youngest brother, helping him where he could. Ireland, you say?" America said, suddenly feeling some dread build up in his guts. 'Ireland, that's England's brother. Are these men His brothers?' "Yes, Ireland. And if you haven't understood it yet, I'm Scotland and this is Wales, you git." That was meant to get a reaction form the Blond, but America wasn't paying attention. All he could think was: 'What will England think when he hears that I hurt his brothers?'

But, as if America wasn't so intelligent to realize what was happening, he yelled "HE WAS RAPED BY HIS OWN BROTHER!?" and stopped a taxi that was passing by.

He certainly gave the name of the hotel, but he didn't have the habitation number.

The others that where left behind just did a huge face palm as the other nation rushed to the hotel.

Sure, they've been told that the blonde was kind of stupid, but they didn't expect him to be so retarded.

It didn't take long for him to reach the hotel, and he ran inside as soon as he had paid the driver. Once there, he was lost on what to do. After all, how was he going to find England and his evil brother? Still, he could always try. Smiling shyly and giving the lady behind the counter his trademark sweet, heart-breaking cute puppy eye look, he softly asked "Hey miss, I have a friend of mine here in this hotel, but he didn't tell me his room number. Do you think that you could tell me where he is?" "I'm sorry, but I'm not allowed to disclose information. If you need to find the room, call your friend and ask him." she said, some guilt falling into her voice as she regretted not being allowed to help the charming gentleman before her. "But my friend doesn't have a working phone; his was broken yesterday when it fell off the car. That was why he couldn't tell me the room number. Please miss, i don't have enough money to rent another room, I was supposed to stay with him tonight." At that, he gave her his best pleading look, and despise herself, she could not resist. "What is your friend's last name?" "My friend's name is Kirkland, but there is a chance that he might be using one of his job names. I don't know those." "Well, can you describe him? "He has reddish-brown hair, with a Irish accent, and he was dragging a blond, who is his brother." The lady stared at him, for he looked nothing like what she was expecting. For you see, the two that he just described had just passed by her, making a scene as the boy dragged a crying blond up the stairs. She felt pity for the man before her; if he was going to sleep with these men then he will suffer a lot tonight. "They are in room 637". Yes, she had memorized it just so that she could avoid it.

"Thank you very much! You saved me!" he gave the best of his melting gazes to the woman, who almost fainted. He looked in what floor the room 637 was, as he memorized it, and began running. He didn't have time to wait for the elevator, so he went trough the emergency stairs, one floor, the second... until he, all sweaty, reached the floor, where he continued running to save his beloved Iggy and when he was in front, remembered that he didn't have any keys or cards to open the room. When he heard a loud scream, he could tell that was England's voice., so he did the first thing he though of; he knocked.

Fortunately, Ireland didn't ask or checked who was asking to come in, thinking that his brothers arrived to help him hold England, and received a push when he opened the door.

"Wait a second!" Ireland shouted as he fell to the floor, but America didn't stop, too intent on rescuing England from the danger his brother posed. The first thing he saw was England sitting on the bed, face wet and reddish. then he noticed that England was still fully clothed, not tied down to the bed like he was expecting, or unconscious. Then all he could notice was the color yellow, light yellow, as the blond jumped on him and embraced him. "America!" England screamed, burying his face deeper into the taller nation's shoulder, " I'm sowwy! I'm sowwy, plese fogiveme!" America stared, stunned at what he was hearing, his ears well trained to understand England's slurred drunkenness. But why was England begging his forgiveness? He had been raped, for god's sake! America was the one who should be asking forgiveness, for being too late!

"No!, I'm the one who has to ask you for forgiveness here!" he embraced the elder nation. "Did the hurt you? Where did he touch you?" he asked while he checked him, starting to undress him.

"What are you doing to my brother, you git!" yelled Ireland.

"Well, I'm checking if he is hurt, you jerk! How could you do this to your own brother!?" America yelled back.

"Do what?" Ireland asked, surprised. "WELL, DO YOU HAVE Amnesia or something?" said as he touched England, while the other just buried his face in his neck.

"YOU RAPED HIM!"

Ireland was so shocked by the answer the blond gave him that he completely froze. "You bastard! I'll kill you for this, I will!" America shouted, stopping when England whimpered against him. "I didn't rape him, no one did." Ireland said calmly, understanding what was happening. "Don't lie, it won't save you now! You son of a *beep*" America said, quietly so as to not upset England further, his hands strategically removing the nation's shirt and he moved to the bed.

"Seriously, are you stupid enough to think that I, one of the people who knows this drunkard here the best, would actually try to do something like that?" The American began to glare at him. "Okay, first of all, I'm not that sick. "

"Then why is he like this!?" said Alfred.

"It's all your fault," said Ireland, sitting on the bed next to the other then sighed.

"What are you talking about" "are you retarded or something?" said Ireland, irritated.

America froze, his gaze moving fixing itself on Ireland again (he had looked back at Iggy to search for injuries.), his hand halting the movement of opening England's pants. "What do you mean it's my fault?" America asked quietly. "He got drunk because its your birthday, idiot." "He's drunk?!" America asked, looking back at the blond that he was holding in his arms. "Yes you twat, he is. Otherwise he wouldn't have let himself be so vulnerable. That's just not like him. You should know, you retard, you saw enough of him to know this." Wales said, appearing at the door with Scotland behind him.

"Iggy, is it true? A I the reason you got drunk?" America asked, afraid that he might have been the one to cause England this amount of pain. England drunkenly raised his head, and leveled a unfocused on America's face. "Aye." he stated sorrowfully. "Why Iggy, what did I do?" "Yu leff mi" England cried softly. "But why does it matter now? I'm here again, and I'm not leaving anymore." "It still hut" England slurred. "But why does it still hurt?" "'cos I lovi yu." The three brothers gasped, shocked at the revelation. However, America just kept his mouth shut until he grabbed Iggy, and exited the room with the drunkard in his arms. "Excuse me." said, rushing through the exit, leaving the shocked siblings behind in the room. When he was about to leave the hotel, he took out his jacket and put it on England's shoulders, then asked for a taxi. As they got to England's place, England was fast asleep.

He carried the elder nation into the house, being extremely careful as he walked, and placed him on his bed, undressed and then wrapped him with the blankets. Just when he was touching his cheek lightly England opened an eye, yawning.

"...mrica..."

"What is it Iggy?" "Wil u be here tommolow?" "Yes, I will." America promised. England gave him a smile, a big genuine one, very much unlike the one's he normally gave. It was a smile that always managed to take America's breath away, and more then once he wished that he had a camera just to immortalize it forever. The smile slowly faded into a small one as the older nation fell asleep again.

Alfred inclined his body, and put their foreheads together until he could feel England's eyelashes against his skin. Then he lightly placed a gentle kiss on the elder nation's lips as he embraced him, playing with his hair, kissing his forehead. Smiling back at the nation in his embrace, he barely noticed when he too fell asleep.

The next day, America woke up to a empty bed, by the sound of a strangled cat. As his eyes opened, he realized that there was no cat that he had to save, but that England was making that sound. America winced, hearing some of the violent noises coming from the bathroom. He stood up and made his way to the bathroom to see how England was doing. Once there, he came across the pitiful sight of England leaning his head on the toilet seat. America stared for a second, before deciding on what to do. In no time he was sitting next to England and pulling the man to him until his head wasn't touching the toilet anymore. "You'll get it on you." England stated weakly, not yet awake enough to realize whom he was talking to, but for some reason feeling like as if he could trust him. "I don't care about that Iggy." America stated back.

England could feel more vomit coming, and inclined his body to release the effects of the alcohol. While Alfred helped him to hold back his hair

"You really don't have to do this" said Arthur "its ok," answered Alfred. He didn't let go of England until his nausea was calm.

Then he got him to wash his teeth and accompanied the elder to his bed, both trying to go back to sleep.

When they sat on the bed though, it seemed that England couldn't fall asleep. Instead he kept the American awake by questioning him: "What are you doing in my house?" was the first question. America raised his head away form the pillows. "You were drunk last night, your brothers found you and I ended up taking you home." England stared at him, half-hoping that it was a lie, that he hadn't been found by America when drunk on the night of America's birthday. It could only spell disaster for him. He found nothing that could imply that the American was lying.

"Did I say something while I was drunk?" he asked directly, afraid of the response that he could get.

"...Like what?" Alfred said, trying not to put England in an awkward situation, because he knew that as soon as his former brother was put in those terms, he just escaped from the situation.

Now he knew of England's feelings, but his goal was to make him to confess sober.

"Like, did I call you something, or did I tell you something that I normally wouldn't?" England asked, looking around so as to avoid looking at the American. "No, I don't think you did..." America trailed off lightly, thankful that England's reluctance to look at him was being helpful. Then he smirked, like he knew he would if England hadn't confessed the day before, and said: "Why? Is there something that you are hiding from me Iggy?"

"aah..nn..nothing" said nervous. "Nothing at all, now go back to sleep" said wrapping a blanket around America, like he did back when he was a kid, and looking him in the eye. America was staring at him with a serious face.

"What are you staring at?"

"Is there any reason why you are so nervous? Is something wrong?" America asked, his voice matching his expression, "If you have a issue of some kind then I will help you, you know." England blushed, almost causing America to lose his posture just to smile at the reaction, and began to shake, his mouth forming unidentifiable sounds as he constantly opened and closed it. "What is it England? What is wrong?" "I can't tell you!" England said loudly before standing up and running out of the room, America (who was very surprised, but not enough to lag behind) hot on his heals. Finally, England stopped when he reached his laundry room, which was a dead end. Before the American reached him, he managed to crawl in between the Dryer and the washer, making it impossible for the American to reach him.

America still tried though, at least until he noticed that England was shaking, with his head buried. "What is wrong England? Tell me!" America asked, only to be answered with England shaking more violently. It seemed like England was crying again.

"Okay, you win," said America "I wont push you, so if you don't want to tell me, you don't have to " he sighed, and sat in that very same point.

"But come here." said, opening his arms; Iggy hesitated a bit, but then came out of that tiny space and hugged Alfred. He was just being childish.

-LINE BREAK-

Author's note time!

If you read this until this point, then I respect you. I know that it's a awkward story to read.

So the ending broke off like that because that was when the 3 of us decided that the sun was too bright for us to continue (although it had been at about 6:30 really, the sun hadn't even risen yet.) and I refuse to continue to write a co-authored story without my co-authors. (We never got around to that, but they told me that I could post it, so here it is!)

I miss writing like that, it's a great motivator to just keep going. Still, I hope that you enjoyed it!


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